This testimony M. ROYDON repeats in another form—
"The Muses met him every day;
That taught him sing, to write, and say."
"When he descended down the mount,
His personage seemed most divine;
A thousand graces one might count
Upon his lovely cheerful eyen:
To hear him speak, and sweetly smile;
You were in Paradise the while."
"A sweet attractive kind of grace;
A full assurance given by looks;
Continual comfort in a face,
The lineaments of Gospel books.
I trow that countenance cannot lie,
Whose thoughts are legible in the eye."
"Was ever eye did see such face;
Was never ear did hear that tongue;
Was never mind did mind his grace;
That ever thought the travail long:
But eyes and ears and every thought,
Were with his sweet perfections caught,"
Can we wonder, then, as stated at p. 294—
<poem> Young sighs, sweet sighs, sage sighs, bewailed his fall.
- <poem>
